


Sacrifice

by jazzjo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5183549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzjo/pseuds/jazzjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke had been wrapping up a shift in the paediatric ward, ready to meet her wife at home when Lexa was wheeled into the ER of Ark Hospital, bleeding far too much for Clarke swallow the heaviness that had settled in her throat. </p><p>Or, the surgeon and detective AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry.

**_Red_**. Bright, and burning, and coating every surface, clinging on with a vengeance. 

 

Red was all she could see. The button down, flapping limply as they wheeled her past, soaked through in places that Clarke knew bode nothing but ill. The smear of sticky, viscous wetness that trailed the way to the operating theatre. Red was all she could feel. 

 

There had been a heavy feeling of dread since she heard the murmurs that had spread upstairs from the ER to the nurses’ station of the Paeds floor. Several pagers had gone off in her vicinity, but not her own. She had seen Marcus Kane of all people hurry from the room of a transplant patient — a kid who had recently gotten new lungs — down the stairs. 

 

Clarke had attempted valiantly to stave off the panic, going through her rounds and checking in on her patients with her signature sunshine smile on her face. Eventually her shift had concluded, and she made her way to the locker room, preserving as much a sense of normalcy as possible. 

 

That had been working at least partially well until she had heard the words “cop” and “the Griffins” in a single breath. 

 

There was only one reason for that. 

 

Then, her pager went off. 

 

Her hands shook as she clutched and crumpled her scrubs desperately, seeking a lifeline since the one who had always been her rock was fighting for her life.

 

Face drained of blood, Clarke found herself stuck where she stood, in the middle of the ER. She hadn’t so much as moved since she sprinted down six flights of stairs from the locker room on the paediatric floor, in the midst of packing her things. 

 

She had been about to clock out. They were meant to see each other at home that night. 

 

The last thing that Clarke expected was to get a frantic call from Anya and hear the woman’s usually composed, almost aloof tone break and falter over the phone. _No_ , the worst part of it was that Clarke had been expecting it. She was never not expecting it, really. 

 

It was always lurking at the back of her mind, somewhere, that this would one day happen. 

 

Now Clarke was in her maroon scrubs, halfway out of her role as _doctor_ , fretting that she would soon be a widow, rather than a wife.

 

Feeling warm hands cover her shoulders, and a firm presence behind her, Clarke almost let herself believe that Lexa was standing right behind her. Allowing herself to be guided towards a rickety plastic chair along the walls, Clarke bit her lip hard in a bid to stifle sobs. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Anya began, removing her hands from Clarke’s shoulders to scrub at her face roughly, “This should never have happened. I should have watched out for her better.”

 

Sighing deeply, Clarke rasped, “You and I both know it isn’t your fault, Anya. Lexa is stubborn to a fault and in these situations there is very little you can do to change the outcome. I did my time in the ER. I’ve seen it.”

 

“She’s my partner, I needed to have her six,” Anya protested weakly, pacing along the row of seats that Clarke occupied.

 

“You’re also her sister, and you would do anything to protect her. Stop blaming yourself, Anya,” Clarke reached out a barely shaking arm to stop the taller blonde in her tracks, “What’s done is done. Please just tell me you got whoever it was who did this to my wife.”

 

“In a body bag, Griffin,” Anya spared a fleeting smirk, “My bullet severed his aorta just milliseconds after he got his shot in. It should have been faster.”

 

“Anya–” Clarke began wearily, only to get cut off by the scuffs of scrub-covered shoes on the linoleum hospital floor. 

 

Immediately, Clarke shot up from her seat. 

 

“How is she?” Clarke pleaded, her voice unable to hold out much longer than through those three words.

 

Kane snapped off his latex gloves, his face ashen as he halted his footsteps right in front of Clarke.

 

“We did all we could, but I’m not going to lie to you, surgeon to surgeon,” Kane began, “The bullet mangled her cardiac arteries. We’ve closed what we could for now but it’s not going to hold; she may not last the night. You might want to say your goodbyes. I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

 

“You’re the best we have, Marcus,” Clarke murmured, “Thank you for buying us some time, at least.” 

 

Marcus beckoned her aside, away from Anya as he spoke under his breath, “Did she know?”

 

“About the kid?” Clarke willed her voice not to tremble as she turned back to the man who had mentored her on his service during her stint in cardio. 

 

Nodding, Marcus gave Clarke a once-over, steadying her with a firm hand on her arm. 

 

Mournfully, Clarke shook her head, “I was meant to tell her when she got home from work. When I got home from work. Whichever happened later. Evidently, neither of those things are going to happen. Not today.”

 

Once Kane had taken his leave, Clarke did not even spare a moment, immediately taking the few quick strides back towards Anya and sinking back into the chair. Pulling her phone out of the pocket of her scrubs, she speed dialled Raven’s number, motioning for Anya to ring Indra and Lincoln. 

 

“Rey,” Clarke fought to keep her voice level as she spoke, “I need you to bring Aly and Hailey to Ark now. Keep them calm.”

 

“God, Clarke,” Raven whispered, disbelieving, “Lexa? Or An–”

 

“It’s Lex. She’s fading fast,” Clarke couldn’t stop the harsh sob from tearing its way out of her throat, “Please, Rey, hurry.”

 

“On it, Griffin. I’ll bring your kids over; go see your wife,” Raven assured, “Remember to breathe.”

 

Once the dial tone could be heard, Clarke allowed the phone to drop limply from her ear with the rest of her lead-weighted arm. 

 

Looking to Anya, she saw the woman’s muted nod before taking off towards the corner of the ER she knew they usually reserved for situations such as these. Pausing outside the curtain, Clarke forced herself to take a couple of breaths deeply through her nose.

 

Her hand gripped the curtain till her knuckles turned white, pulling it gingerly aside to reveal the sight she was so very petrified of seeing. 

 

“I didn’t want this to be real,” She whispered, barely audible, “I couldn’t bring myself to see it because then it’d be real.”

 

“I’m sorry, Clarke,” Lexa choked out, her face paler than Clarke had ever seen it, “We were meant to grow old together. I should have been more careful.”

 

“Shut up, you dork,” Clarke retorted, shushing her swiftly, “Save your strength. Indra, Lincoln and Octavia will be here soon. Raven is bringing the girls.”

 

Lexa coughed violently, her eyes scrunching up tightly and her left hand forming a vice grip on the side of the bed.

 

“I do not think it is all that great an idea for the girls to see me like this, Clarke.”

 

Taking three steps such that she was flush against the frame of the bed where Lexa lay, Clarke ran her hand over Lexa’s face, cupping her jaw once the coughing fit had subsided. 

 

“Lex, please, I know you hate to seem weak, especially to them, but–” Clarke was close to begging, “They need to say goodbye to their mother.”

 

Lexa made to turn away, shifting her cheek from Clarke’s warm palm. 

 

“You don’t have to go alone,” Clarke stammered out, her hand trembling right next to Lexa’s jaw. 

 

“Fine.”

 

* * *

 

 

The dragging of plastic rings over the metal frame of the blinds around Lexa’s corner of the ER dragged the two women back to reality. Clarke stepped away from Lexa, her hand falling to grasp the other woman’s own loosely. 

 

Indra bustled in, followed closely by Lincoln and Octavia. Immediately the older woman moved to Lexa’s other side, grasping her pale hand firmly. 

 

“You are leaving before I am, _goufa_?” Indra intoned, the quiver in her voice well suppressed.

 

Lexa coughed wetly, her words somewhere between pained and forced, “I am sorry, _nomon_.”

 

“Alexia–”

 

“– _Nomon_ , I have lived a full life. _Ai gonplei ste odon, nomon_.” 

 

Lincoln stepped forward quietly, laying a soft kiss on his sister’s clammy forehead. Octavia kissed her cheek, stepping back with shuddering breaths. 

 

“ _Yu gonplei ste odon_ , _Lek-sa_ ,” Lincoln murmured, wrapping an arm around Indra’s shoulders, “Sleep well. May we meet again, _Heda_.”

 

“May we meet again, little brother,” Lexa sighed, granting Lincoln a weak smile, “Treat Octavia well.”

 

The three retreated behind the curtain, Indra’s back ramrod straight even as Octavia had already slumped into a slouching Lincoln’s arms. 

 

Clarke knew the look in Indra’s eyes as she left, the abject fear that she would lose her other daughter the same way. After all, it could have just as easily been them both tonight. 

 

For Indra’s sanity, and Raven’s as well, she felt a pained sense of relief that only one of the two Trigeda girls was lying in a hospital bed right then. 

 

Running the pad of her thumb over Lexa’s knuckles, Clarke fought back the tears that threatened to break the dam that her eyelids put up. 

 

The blinds shifted once more, revealing Clarke’s sister-in-law with the two little Trigeda girls behind her. 

 

“I’m so sorry, Lexa,” Raven began, blocking Lexa from Hailey and Aly’s view until Clarke took them aside, just outside the curtain. 

 

Lexa smiled faintly, rasping as clearly as she could manage, “Take care of Anya, she is going to blame herself for what happened. It was not her fault. There was really nothing more she could have done in the situation that we were in to make it end any differently than it already did. Just make sure my sister is not alone in her healing, please.”

 

Nodding solemnly, Raven murmured her last goodbye to the woman who lay in a bed in the corner of the ER, bleeding out of her heart, “I’ll watch out for Clarke too. Don’t worry.”

 

“Thank you, Raven.”

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke took both her daughters by the hand, guiding them right outside the curtain. Kneeling down in front of them both, Clarke steadied her voice and began, “Girls, your _nomon_ looks pretty bad. She’s been hurt quite seriously, and soon she’s going to have to leave us. Don’t be afraid of her, just be gentle. We have to say our goodbyes.”

 

_God, how did anyone explain to young children what death meant? Hailey hadn’t yet turned six, and Aly just over three. They were kids. They shouldn’t have to say their goodbyes to their mother on her deathbed._

 

“When is she coming home, Mama?” Aly asked, head tilted to the side pensively, “Is she coming back in time for Hailey’s birthday?”

 

Choking back a sob, Clarke shook her head, “She’s not coming home, baby. She got hurt really, really bad. Sometimes, people go to the hospital, and they never go home, like some of my patients. The doctors try really hard but they just can’t fix them.”

 

Hailey bit her lip, before hazarding a question, “Why can’t you fix Nomon, Mama?”

 

Clarke hurriedly ushered them into Lexa’s makeshift room, forcing out broken words, “Say your goodbyes, girls.”

 

With that, she ran full tilt into one of the on-call rooms right by the ER, slamming the door shut behind her. With the door finally closed, Clarke allowed the tears to come spilling down her cheeks. 

 

_You’re a doctor, for god’s sake. You couldn’t even keep your own wife alive. What sort of useless surgeon are you?_

 

She glared holes into her shaking hands, the ones that had always been praised for being nimble and steady in surgery. Her ability to carry out procedures that seemed too risky due to her ability to manipulate a scalpel had been the reason that she chose to specialise in paediatric surgery. 

 

Now she was questioning her specialty. 

 

Rationally, Clarke knew there was not a chance in hell she would have been allowed to even scrub in on Lexa’s surgery, let alone be the one to carry it out, but it did not make her feel like any less of a failure. 

 

_God, Lex, I failed you._

 

One of her trembling hands found its way to the still flat plane of her abdomen. Lexa would never see this little one be born. Lexa would never see any of their children grow up. Clarke was going to be alone in raising three children, on top of being a surgeon. 

 

_I failed our children_. 

 

When she had finally pulled herself together enough to leave the on-call room, Clarke headed straight back to the cordoned off corner. She had to tell Lexa. 

 

That much, she owed her wife. 

 

“It is not your fault, Clarke,” Lexa choked out the moment Clarke stepped back into the confines of the curtains, “There was nothing you could have done.”

 

“Alexia—”

 

“You have said it yourself, umpteen times before,” Lexa continued, heedless of Clarke’s protests, “Marcus Kane is one of this hospital’s best. The only surgeon better than him is your mother, and the fact that she hates me for corrupting her daughter aside, she is not a cardio-thoracic surgeon. If I had needed a general surgeon, maybe there would have been an alternative to the course of action you took, but the fact remains that I do not.”

 

“I’m pregnant, Lex,” Clarke blurted out, stepping towards the bed and grabbing one of Lexa’s hands, “It worked. We’re going to be parents again.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Clarke,” Lexa started, “So, so sorry.”

 

* * *

 

 

Their daughters had collided into her legs the moment the machine rang its deafening signal of a flatline. Every bone and fibre in Clarke’s body screamed at her to follow her training and call for a crash cart, but none would come, nor would Clarke call for one. 

 

It was futile, she knew that much. This was it for them. 

 

She let Aly scream, and Hailey worry her lip silently, but this was it. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I love you.”

 

“Goodbye.”

 

“Goodbye, love.”

 


End file.
